Two peasants once had a child, a little girl. They lived in the middle of a huge forest. One summer evening, the little one went outside, and played with the flowers. She picked many of them, and bound them into a wreath. Then a lovely little child came up to her, showed her a bunch of flowers, and said that if she would come along, that she should have as many flowers as she could wish. They had such wonderfully lovely colors, like the most delightful sunset glow, that she had a great longing to have some of them. And so she went with the unknown little girl, who walked ever deeper and deeper into the woods, amongst the elderberry bushes. The terrified mother, who saw her from afar, called to her child and ran after her. But by then the child was so far away that she didn't know what had become of her.

The mother went to her husband and told him what had happened, but after they had searched the whole evening and long into the night, they had to go back alone, without their daughter.

Now they mourned deeply, often weeping, and pondered about it. Not long after that, on a clear moonlit night, the mother lay and could not sleep for sorrow and grief. And as she lay there, and stared out at the floor, she suddenly saw her child, who sat on a little stool by the stove, and busied herself with a bunch of flowers. The mother was so very glad that she jumped out of bed, and wanted to take the child in her arms, but the little girl suddenly disappeared.

Now a long time went by: indeed, many years, and they heard nothing of her. In the meantime they had had another child, a beautiful boy, and because of him they did not think as often about the missing little girl.

One lovely summer evening the little boy went out and played outside the cottage, collecting many flowers and decorating a grave that he had fashioned for his sister. As he was finishing with it, many little children came out of the woods. They went over to him, and encircled him, and went, hand in hand, into the woods. They walked ever further and further away, and the terrified parents, who had seen this from afar and hurried after, and searched throughout the whole forest, could not find their beloved son.

They sorrowed deeply, and knew of no help for their pain. Often, when they went into the woods to cut willow branches, which had wound themselves up around the thick elderberry bushes, they saw that many small children were walking in there, and playing with the flowers. The parents often recognized their own two children among the others. But when they ran toward them and called them by name, all the children disappeared. And when the parents reached the spot where they had seen this vision, it was only the old, dried-out willows that stood there.

After some weeks had passed, the mother died of sorrow over her children. The husband went to the churchyard, dug a grave, and laid his wife in it. The first evening after that, he sat alone in his cottage and stared out the window. It was a clear, moonlit night. Then he saw two children who went past, hand in hand, out in the night, with lovely flowers in their hands. He went outside, and saw that they were walking down the road to the church. He also saw many other small children, but they walking over the fields and meadows.

Now that they had come to the church, most of the children stopped short, but the two that walked on the church road went over to their dead mother's grave, laid the flowers on it, and seated themselves down in the grass and wept. The father recognized his own children, and went over to them, calling them by name. Then they were gone, but there on the grave lay the lovely flowers. From that night on he never saw them again.